


The Black Telegram

by thecat_13145



Category: Invaders (Marvel), Marvel
Genre: Community: fic_promptly, Gen, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2013-12-10
Packaged: 2018-01-04 06:43:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1077816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecat_13145/pseuds/thecat_13145
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Falsworth Manor was the last house on Tommy’s route. </p>
<p>written for the fic_promptly comment Marvel Comics, any WWII character, black-edged telegram</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Black Telegram

Falsworth Manor was the last house on Tommy’s route. 

He’d tried to get one of the other post boys to swap with him, but Sam said there was no way he was going near the creepy old house, and Joseph had just shook his head when he’d asked, and Mr. Philips had being very angry when he found out. 

Five steps to the gate show his pass to the guard there.

He didn’t know why he couldn’t hand the telegrams over to the guards at the gate, rather than have to walk all the way up to the front porch, like he did with the letters, but Mr. Philips had looked uncomfortable when he’d asked that, and eventually admitted that most of the letters were not official.

“It is a mark of respect to Lord Falsworth for his generosity and years of service, that not only is he permitted to remain in his home, while the military uses it, but he is also permitted to continue to receive private correspondence.”

He had fixed Tommy with his beady eyes then, daring him to comment. 

Tommy hadn’t. Everyone knew that Falsworth Manor had being taken over by the military, with Lord Falsworth’s permission, for some utter hush hush military thing. A man had come around to the house and asked Tommy and his mum a lot of questions about their family, before it had being agreed that Tommy was alright to continue delivering the mail to Falsworth Manor, just like he’d done every day since he left school at 13.

Take the pass back from the guards, and start down the drive, wishing they were coming with you. They did sometimes when there were cars drawing up at the manor late at night or that weird plane that flew over head at night, which had Captain Mannering on the phone within five minutes, convinced that the invasion had started.

His mum said that Captain Mannering was a silly old fool who wouldn’t know a rifle if it bit him. After all, why would they start the invasion in Sommerset, and the BBC would tell them when it happened anyway?

Two more steps to the bend.

He wants to run, but that’s stupid. His mum would be furious, if she heard about it.

She started in Service to the Falsworths, not long after they were married, just after the last war when three entire villages owed their livelihoods to the Falsworth’s and their estate. Even with the war on, fifty percent of the village still worked either directly or indirectly for the Falsworth, and those who had being called up had being promised that their jobs would still be there when they came back.

“Lord Falsworth is a gentleman.” Mum had said when she heard that. “Besides, he was in the last one, and remembers how hard it was for a man to get a job when he returned. He won’t see any of his people in that situation, not again.”

One step and there! He was there, just as he’d being every day since he came back from London, sitting in his chair in front of the huge glass windows that Mum said were part of the library, watching for Tommy.

Tommy swallowed, and forced himself to set off down the drive, clutching his bag.

Mr Philips and the Major who had a funny name, had said that he mustn’t stop or give the bag to anyone, even for a second, until he reached the door.  
He didn’t know what was in the bag which was so important. Mr Philips knew, he received all the telegrams, but all Mr Philips would say is “careless talk, lad, careless talk”

One Step, two steps, three steps.

He can feel the eyes now, blazing at him, glaring into him like a mad mans.

It’s daft to be so frightened because everyone knows that Lord Falsworth was crippled in London. The official story is that he was helping to rescue someone from a trapped building when it fell on him, but George Gilding says that’s a load of coldswolt, and it has something to do with the sinister cousin who was hanging about the estate, and Ms Jacqueline’s disappearance.

But Mum says that George Gilding is a drunken old fool who ought to know better and that Ms Jacqueline is in London doing work for the war effort, like Sam’s own daughter ought to be. Joseph says that Izzie Gilding is doing a lot of work for the Yanks on her back, but Mr. Phillips frowned more than ever and threatened Joseph with a thick ear.

He can see the house properly now.

Grandfather moans that it’s a shame the way the garden’s being allowed to go to rack and ruin, but Mum says who’s supposed to tend to it, when the men have being called up?

He can see people in the conservatory, bent over something that looks a bit like a map.

Everyone knows that Master Brian is doing secret work in London, but no one talks about it, just like they don’t talk about the strange planes in the nights and two strange boys who are seen in the village sometimes and caves near Falsworth Manor.

Lord Falsworth eyes haven’t left him, and he begins to hurry, wanting this to be over with as quickly as possible, even though he knows he’ll have to come back tomorrow and the old man will still be waiting for him, watching him as though he’s the enemy.

When he tried to explain that to Mr Philips, to explain why he didn’t want to deliver to Falsworth Manor, Mr Philips got a strange look on his face, and started cleaning his glasses with a handkerchief.

“When I was...I can’t have being much older than you, Thomas, I was the telegram boy for the district. Wasn’t enough work to justify more than one in those days.” He shook his head. “This was during the Last war, so most of my work was delivering those telegrams.” He paused, letting the news sink in. A black edge telegram, the telegram that said that a husband, brother, father, or son wasn’t going to come home, that they were dead or missing out in No man’s land, never to be found. “ I thought I’d got use to form of reaction. I got chased off with a carpet beater, had glass bottles thrown at me, once even had a wash tub emptied all over me,” He shook his head again, rubbing at his glasses so vigorously that Tommy thought he would take out the glass. “Lord Falsworth’s mother was alive back then, and he’d come home on leave, when I took one up to the manor.” He sighed. “We all thought, we all hoped in the village it might be about Master John, perhaps that he’d being captured and stopped his wicked ways.” They shared a significant glance. Everyone knew that Master John, Lord Falsworth’s younger brother, had fought for the Kaiser. Some thought that was why his son had vanished, that Lord Falsworth’s influence had run out, and the young man had being interned. He hoped it was true, as he didn’t like Uncle Dick’s stories about the manor being haunted.

“I thought I’d seen every reaction to the telegram, but his lordship surprised me. He took the telegram from me, thanked me very civilly and asked after my mother as though it was an ordinary telegram. I thought he was just keeping his upper lip stiff, until I was walking down the corridor and I heard a strange sound.” He glanced at Tommy. “You ever heard a workhouse howl, Thomas?”

“No sir.” The nearest work house was at Moorlands, a good ten miles from here. Mr Philips nodded. “Trust me son, you don’t want to. I had, but that didn’t even come close. It was...” He shivered. “Inhuman. I ran back, thinking some animal was attacking the manor and there was her ladyship, kneeling in the rose garden, screaming like nothing on earth. That was when I knew it was Ms Agatha who wouldn’t be coming home.” They sat in silence, both of them thinking of the small plaque in the church that commended The Honourable Miss Agatha Falsworth brief life. “Greater love hath no man than to lay down his life for his friends” it said, even though Ms Falswoth had being a nurse, not a soldier.

“She never forgave him, you know, the Dowager.” Mr Philips said, putting his glasses back on. “For coming home when Master John and Ms Agatha didn’t. Wouldn’t go to the wedding, barely had anything to with the grandchildren, until she died.” He glanced at Tommy. “His lordship couldn’t cope with that.”

Maybe, Tommy thought, reaching for the knocker, but that didn’t give him any right to stare at Tommy like that.  
Oskar opened the door. Tommy was never sure about handing the letters over to Oskar, as everyone knew he was German. But the Major had said they were quite sure that Oskar was alright, which was strange, as no one in the village would speak to Oskar. Not that he’d exactly being chatty with anyone before hand, but now Captain Mannering wanted people to cross the street to avoid him, not that anyone listened to Captain Mannering more than they had to.

Oskar counted and inspected the telegrams before closing the door in Tommy’s face.

Tommy glanced up at the window, seeing that Lord Falsworth had vanished from it.

He yawned, suddenly tired. 

There was a dance in aid of the Red Cross in the church hall tonight. The vicar’s wife (who his mother did for three days a week) said that Ms Jacqueline had arranged for Union Jack and Captain America to be there, but Tommy didn’t believe her.

What would Union Jack or Captain America be doing in Falsworth anyway?


End file.
